


Pole

by Lmv16



Series: Albert and Skye Modern Story [2]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, My OC - Freeform, Pole Dancing, i do fitness pole, it's so fun you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 16:07:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13814688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lmv16/pseuds/Lmv16
Summary: Modern AU where Skye does fitness pole dancing as a form of exercise and Albert has no idea until she hurts herself.





	Pole

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I do fitness pole. I know how hard it is. No, I am not a stripper. Wouldn’t be working retail if I was. Yes, pole dancing competitions are a thing.   
> Warnings: pole dancing (as a form of fitness), swear words

Step around. Float. Pirouette. Float into climb. Climb. Climb. Down into Jasmine. Climb. Climb. Layback. Sit. Remi Sit. Drop. Catch. Climb. Climb. Hood ornament. Drop. Catch. Climb. Climb. Jasmine. Butterfly. Slow release. Feet on floor. Shoulder mount. Slow release. Splits. Done.

Clapping filled the space as she stood back up, aching, but happy.

“I think that’s the best I’ve seen yet, Skye,” her instructor said. “You’re definitely ready for the competition this weekend!” 

Skye grinned, “Thanks, Hal,” she said.

“You are very welcome. How’s your foot?” Hal asked, handing Skye her water bottle.

Skye glanced down at her foot, where a bruise had permanently appeared a number of months ago. She shrugged. “Aches,” she answered, “But when does it not, these days?”

Hal frowned, “You need to get it looked at, Skye,” she said softly.

“I am after the competition,” she reassured her friend, “I have an appointment for Monday.”

“I just hope you didn’t break it, again, that mark’s been there for months.”

“There’s maybe a stress fracture at most, but come on, there’s no way I did anything worse than that,” she said. “I’ll be fine for the competition, and then I’m getting it looked at. Promise.”

Hal sighed, but nodded. “Do it one more time, and then we’ll be done for the day.”

Skye nodded, “I need to get to class. Spot chewed me out last week for missing and leaving him alone,” she said.

Hal laughed, “Somehow I’m not surprised. Come on, one more time.”

Skye smiled, nodded, and pointed her foot, grabbing onto her pole.

Later that day, she walked into class, backpack over her shoulder. She glanced around, spotting her friend at their normal long-desk. It literally was just a desk that was long enough for two people to sit at comfortably and do their work.

“I see you decided to come to class today,” Spot Conlon noted as she sat down next to him.

“Hal said I’m ready for the competition this weekend,” Skye said, ignoring her friend’s comment.

“Seriously? Congratulations!” Spot exclaimed, raising his hand for a high-five. Spot was one of her only friends who actually knew what she meant when she told people that she attended a dance class a few times a week. She had dragged him to a co-ed class, and Spot, who had been the first to always make fun of pole dancing, learned to respect it after he was so sore the next day that he could hardly walk.

“Are you going to come?” Skye asked as she pulled out her laptop and readied a Microsoft document for taking notes.

“You know I am,” Spot said, “Race is, too. Is Albert?”

Skye smiled at the mention of her boyfriend. They had gotten together the year before, during their junior year of college. But she shook her head, “I don’t think he is. I’m not entirely sure he even knows what kind of dancing it is that I do. Doesn’t have an Instagram, so he hasn’t seen any of the videos that I post to it,” she said.

Skye had a fairly large following on her Instagram, mostly because of her amazing videos of her trying new routines. Go back far enough into her Instagram, and you’ll find the videos of her learning how to do the tricks that she now did as easily as she walked.

“You haven’t shown him any of them?” Spot asked, “he knows you take a dance class, right?”

“Oh yeah, he knows,” Skye said. “He started asking about all the bruises like two months into it, way before we even started dating.” Pole dancing was a very strength oriented sport. And trying to flip yourself around a pole caused many bruises. She currently had one on her inner arm, very much visible thanks to the short sleeve shirt she wore. “I told him I went to a dance class because I didn’t really know how to describe it at the time, and he hasn’t asked about it, since. I’ve told him before that I was going to pole, but I don’t know if he ever put it together.”

“Huh,” Spot said, “You’d think he would ask to see videos of you actually dancing.”

“You’d think,” she agreed.

Four days later, Skye performed beautifully. Spot and Race both sat in the audience, cheering their heads off at their best friend. After Spot had been forced to try it, Race had happily agreed to try. He, too, gained a new respect for it after feeling the soreness the next day.

Lots of pictures were taken, and Skye had a professionally shot video of a routine that won her second place. However, it was during a freestyle at the end that the fact that she had been ignoring the pain in her foot finally cost her.

At the end of competitions, sometimes a freestyle round happens. The dancer can do whatever they want, instead of being restricted to certain rules. There also is no judges in freestyle, because the routine is usually made up on the spot. As she was finishing, Skye decided to do a cradle spin into a butterfly, which required her to get her foot up and over her head to hook onto the pole at the ankle. She did so, and used that foot, as well as both hands, to push herself away from the pole, other leg outstretched. Thundering applause met the trick, as it was a rather hard one to do because you’re essentially upside-down. As she swung herself around, her bad foot, which had been extended away from the pole, hit the pole. Hard. The sound it made, made everyone wince.

Skye grimaced in pain, but finished the routine, landing lightly on her feet, most of her weight on her left foot. Her right foot was already beginning to swell.  
“And that was Elise Kloppman, everybody!” the announcer exclaimed as everyone applauded. Skye grinned and bowed, limping off the stage to the backstage area.  
In the audience, Spot and Race looked at each other and stood up. Both of them knew what that hit had meant.

Once the two boys got to the backstage area (after having to sneak by the security team, of course) they found their best friend. She was laying on a bench, left leg bent at the knee, and right leg out straight.

“Skye! You were amazing!” Race exclaimed, rushing forward.

“Race!” Skye cried, happily accepting his hug.

He let go after a moment, allowing Spot to hug her. “You looked amazing up there,” the darker haired boy said, “But that whack against the pole didn’t sound good. Are you okay?”

Skye nodded, “I think so? But I’m getting it checked out on Monday, anyways, so I’m not too worried about it,” she said. “Come on, I’m hungry; let’s get pizza.”

Race and Spot agreed, although Spot was a little warier about it. Holding a hand out to her, Spot helped her off the table. The moment Skye put weight on her right foot, however, she crumpled with a yelp.

“Skye!” luckily Spot still had her hand, and was easily able to catch her. Pulling the girl up, Spot wound an arm around her waist to keep her up.

“I think you need to go to the hospital,” Race said, pulling out his phone.

“No ambulances!” Skye exclaimed.

“What do you mean, ‘no ambulances’?!” Spot exclaimed, “Yes ambulances!”

“Do you know how much money it costs to ride in one of those?! Just call an Uber!”

Race and Spot shared a look, but nodded. “Alright. Come on, we don’t know the extent of the damage.” With that, Spot bent down and swept Skye’s legs out from under her, carrying her easily in bridal style.

“Ow!” Skye exclaimed.

“Fuck, sorry,” Spot apologized.

“You’re good,” Skye hissed. She burrowed herself into Spot’s chest, blushing as other dancers looked her way. Once they finally made it outside, Spot set her down on a bench, and turned to Race.

“Order that Uber?” he asked his boyfriend.

Race nodded, “Yeah, it should be here in a few minutes. Texted Albert, too, and Jack and Crutchie. They’re all meeting us at the hospital with Katherine.”

“Sounds good,” Spot said. He sat down next to Skye, “The Uber should be here soon, Skye.”

“Thanks,” she laid her head on Spot’s shoulder, “Albert’s gonna kill me.”

“He knows about your foot?” Race asked, surprised.

“He’s known since it started to hurt. He looked so relieved when I told him that it was finally getting looked at,” Skye explained.

“Hey, at least you were getting it looked at. The damage is probably a lot worse now, than it was before, though,” Race responded. “Oh, here, I grabbed this on the way out.”

He held up her backpack, plopping it into her lap.

“My backpack! Thanks, Race,” Skye said gratefully. Opening it up, she dug through the bag for a moment before pulling out a hoodie, and pulling it on over her tank top. She then pulled out a pair of jeans, and frowned. “Guess booty shorts will have to do,” she murmured. Her tennis shoes and socks were at the bottom of the bag, but she left them off for the moment. Once the Uber arrived, Spot and Race helped her into the car.

“To the hospital, please,” Race said.

The driver of the car glanced back in the mirror at the three of them, “You know, an ambulance would have been faster,” he said as he pulled away from the sidewalk.

“You’re cheaper,” Spot retorted. “Please just hurry, she’s in a lot of pain.”

The driver didn’t respond. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital. Spot helped her into the building as Race paid the driver. There were a few people scattered around the waiting room, including a woman with her sick child, a man who was obviously waiting for the birth of his own child, and a man with bloodied cloth wrapped around his hand. Once Skye was settled into one of the chairs, Spot went up to the counter.

“Hi, can I help you?” the receptionist asked, a friendly smile turning her lips up.

“Yeah, um, my friend’s foot has been bothering her for like five months, and she’s been stubborn and didn’t want to get it checked. Well, she had a dance competition today and she hit it really hard on something and it’s swollen and she can’t walk on it, I think it might be broken.”

The receptionist frowned, and handed Spot a clipboard and a pen. “Have her fill this out, and bring it back up when she’s done. We should be able to get her back soon,” she said.  
Spot nodded and took the clipboard and pen. “Thanks.”

Race was just sitting down next to Skye when Spot made it back over to her. He sat on her other side and handed her the clipboard, “Here, fill this out. I’ll take it back up once you’re done.”

“Thanks, Spot,” Skye muttered. She filled out the form easily, and handed it back to Spot, who brought it back up to the receptionist. She took it with a smile. Spot rejoined his friends.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until the hospital doors opened and a very worried group of their friends ran into the hospital.

Jack had Katherine’s hand gripped in his own. Crutchie was behind them, easily keeping up, and Albert was next to him. Upon catching sight of his girlfriend, Albert rushed over to her.

“Skye! Are you alright?! What happened!?” the redhead demanded.

Race got up to allow Albert to sit next to her. He, Spot, Jack, Katherine, and Crutchie all took some steps back to give the young couple some space.

“I’m alright,” Skye said, smiling up at him slightly.

“I told you to get your foot checked out,” he reprimanded.

“I was going to after my competition,” Skye explained, “And then I kinda… wacked it against a pole.”

“A pole?” Albert raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah… that dance class I attend is a fitness pole dancing class,” Skye said sheepishly, but not ashamed. Pole dancing was hard, dammit, and she was good at it.

“Pole dancing? You’ve been pole dancing for two years and I never even knew?” Albert asked incredulously.

“You never asked, and I never really knew how to explain it. I’ve called it just straight pole, before, so I thought you knew.” Skye said. “That being said, I made Spot and Race go once, and I have video of it, and it’s hilarious, if that makes you feel better.”

Albert looked at her, at her hopeful face. Hopeful that he wasn’t mad at her, maybe? He sighed. “I’m gonna need to see those videos, later,” he finally said.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m not. I’m not happy that you’re hurt, but I’m not mad at you. I love you, okay?” he said, quietly, so only she could hear.

Skye smiled at him and nodded, “I love you too,” the two hugged, and that apparently was the signal the others were looking for to come back over.

“So, how was the competition, Skye?” Katherine asked. The young journalist was interested in fitness pole in a way of how it gave women a chance to empower themselves. She had seen the change in Skye’s behavior after she started pole, how much more confident she had since gotten.

Skye grinned, “You guys are looking at Level 3 Second Place,” she announced.

“Oh my God, Skye!” Katherine hugged her, only backing away when she jostled Skye’s foot. “Oh, sorry!”

Before Skye could reassure her that she was okay, a nurse walked out of the back offices.

“Elise Kloppman?” she called.

Skye stood, with the help of Albert, and together the two hobbled over to the nurse. Upon seeing her, the nurse grabbed a wheelchair and took her back, allowing Albert back with her because he told her that Skye was his fiancé. She was not his fiancé. Yet.

Once back there, the nurse got a rundown of what happened, and Skye was taken to get an X-ray. Once she was back in the room with Albert, they waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, half an hour later, the nurse returned with Skye’s X-rays in hand.

“Alright, I’ve got some good news and I’ve got some bad news,” the nurse said. “Which would you like first?”

Skye glanced up at Albert, sitting on the examining table next to her. He had his arm around her, and squeezed her arm in reassurance.

“Uh, bad news, I guess?” she phrased it like a question, unsure.

“You’re going to need surgery. You said you ignored the pain for about five, six months? That was a stress fracture. It would have needed a few months in a walking boot and some physical therapy after, and you would’ve been good. However, that last whack against the pole completely shattered some of those little bones.” The nurse put the X-ray up on the light board, turning it on. It was easy to see the shattered state of two of her bones. “We’re gonna have to go in immediately and put in pins.”

Skye looked at Albert again, suddenly scared.

“And the good news?” Albert asked attentively.

“It’ll take about eight months for this to heal completely. You’ll be on crutches for most of it. But once it’s healed, you’ll be able to go back to dancing like nothing happened,” the nurse smiled at them.

“I’ll be able to go back to pole?” Skye asked, almost incredulously.

“Mm-hm!” The nurse turned to page a doctor to the room so they could start prepping for surgery. “Do you have anyone who can stay while we operate, and a place to go after?”  
“I’ll stay here,” Albert said immediately, “and we share an apartment, anyways, so,” he said. It was true. They had only recently bought their first apartment together, but they loved it.

The nurse nodded. “Alright. I’m going to need you to go back to the waiting room, though, Mr. DaSilva. This requires immediate surgery.”

Albert nodded and stood up from the table. “I’ll see you later, okay?” Albert said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Skye said. Albert smiled a small smile, kissed her once, hugged her, and finally left the room.

A few hours later, when Skye was waking up from her surgery, she realized that she could feel a hand grasping her own. Upon finally getting her eyes open, she found a huge cast covering her foot and lower leg, and Albert sitting in the chair beside her bed, holding her hand.

“Albert?” she sounded groggy, but it was enough to make Albert look at her.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” Skye replied. “How’d the surgery go?”

Albert smiled, “It was a success. They want to keep you here for the rest of the night for observation, but they’re gonna let me take you home tomorrow morning.”

“I already miss my pole,” Skye complained.

Albert laughed, “How about you go ahead and show me those videos of Spot and Race?” he suggested, handing her, her backpack that he’d gotten from Race.

Skye grinned a tired grin. “With pleasure. It’s amazing black mail material.”

Albert chuckled and kissed her forehead. She would be alright.


End file.
